I reached for his glass to put it away, but he grabbed my wrist instead, tingles erupting on it. I cursed myself for feeling this way, knowing that it’d break my heart in the end when he found out about Mom and started to treat me like everyone else who knew.
“How’s Mason?” he asked, voice low.
“Sounds like you’re jealous.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I wished they hadn’t.
Hell, he hadn’t sounded jealous at all, but why else would he come to the place where he knew I worked and sit at the bar for hours until it was closing time, just to talk to me?
I had been coming up with explanations in my head all night, and jealousy was the only one that made sense.
“Oh, Mia,” he said, chuckling.
He stood up and walked around the bar. I stared at his seat, heat warming my entire body.
“I’m not jealous over that boy. The only thing he has that I don’t is you.” He snaked a hand around my throat from behind and pulled me closer to him. “But I can have you in other ways.”
His hand dipped between my legs, and I tried so damn hard to get myself to push it away … but I couldn’t.
“Mr. Bryne … we can’t.”
I had said those words so many times before that they were starting to lose their meaning. But this time, I really meant them. I wasn’t saying it because he was Melissa’s dad. I was saying it because this was wrong. He placed his fingers against the front of my pants and rubbed my clit. So very, very wrong.
My fingers paled as I pressed them into the counter.Mia, think of Mason. Think of all the good times you’ve spent with that boy …
But I couldn’t remember any.
I brushed my fingers against his wrist, leaning back into his touch. “Mr. Bryne …” I said softly.
“Say my name, Mia,” he mumbled against my neck. He left a trail of sloppy, wet kisses all the way up my neck to my jaw. “I want to hear my name on your lips, want to hear you moaning it.”
“The only way,” I started, feeling his fingers slip into my panties, “you’re going to hear me moaning your name”—his fingers played with my folds, spreading them apart and slipping between them—“is if youmake memoan it.”
He drew his fingers down my folds and against my entrance. He chuckled against my ear. “You either don’t know how easy that is”—he rubbed his finger against my entrance, harder but never pushing it into me—“or you don’t care.”
I clenched and squeezed my eyes shut, wanting nothing more than for him to push his finger inside of me. He bit down on my neck, sucking the skin between his lips, almost enough to leave a hickey.
“Which is it?” He pressed his cock into my backside, grinding it more and more, and I curved my back, so I could feel him against my pussy.
He felt so big, so thick. And all I fucking wanted was for him to ram it into me.
I reached back to take it in my hand, but he snatched my wrist.
“Say it, Mia. Say my name, and I’ll let you suck my cock.”
My pussy tightened, heat warming my core. I gulped, my whole body aching for it. “Please …” I whispered.
He rubbed his fingers around my clit, driving me higher and higher. I gripped on to the counter to steady my trembling legs. He was going to make me … make me …
He pulled his hand away just as I was about to come and pressed his cock flush against me.
My panties were soaked, my cunt pulsing. I needed his cock inside of it.
“Please,” I begged Mr. Bryne. “I need it.”
He pressed his fingers back against my clit, rubbing them faster than he had before. His hand tightened around my throat. I tightened yet again and whimpered, the pressure in my pussy rising with every second. And now … now, I didn’t want him to stop.
I parted my lips as I was about to come and said, “Michael, please don’t stop.”
Instead of pulling his hand away, he rubbed my swollen clit faster. My knees buckled, and I grasped on to the bar to hold myself up as I came for him.
